


Second Chance

by sapphirestylan



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 17:53:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13909173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphirestylan/pseuds/sapphirestylan
Summary: A university AU where Harry is a playboy and Niall is the sleep-deprived dorm resident that accidentally falls in love with him.





	Second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a really long time ago, which means my writing was even shitter than it is now, but I figured I'd share it on here so...here ya go!

The digital clock propped up on his nightstand reads 2:46 AM in blinking red light, imprinting their figures on the inside of Niall’s eyelids in an otherwise blacked-out room. Sheets rustle uncomfortably as the blonde registers the throbbing beat resounding directly above him, belonging to the party that’s most likely been going on for hours. Niall knows this because he woke up at midnight when the music first began, and after fretfully falling asleep, woke up again at 12:30. And then at 1:00. And then at 1:52. 

He knows this because he lives directly underneath the location of all the wildest parties on campus, belonging to the heartthrob frat boy most notorious for not his wide array of bad-boy tattoos or his million-dollar smile, but of course (just Niall’s luck) for throwing said parties. 

Niall endures the painfully broken silence for only a few hot minutes before kicking his covers off viciously, swearing artfully under his breath as he stumbles out of bed. The door slams shut behind him as he rubs the sleep from his eyes, brows knit together and mouth in a tight line as he jogs up the flight of stairs to the floor above him, feet pounding on the concrete. 

The door of Dormitory 217 is opened just enough to spill the music out into the dimly lit hallway, the only illumination coming from the weakened baseboard lighting that rims the edges of the walls. Niall trots closer, tugging his hand through his hair as he approaches the door.

The beat throbs, dark and heavy, through Niall’s body as he worms his way among throngs of sweaty bodies. His gaze flicks sharply to the boy in the middle of the room, hands shoved in his pockets and his hair ruffled, looking effortlessly cool.

“Hey,” Niall says, moving towards him, drawn for some invisible reason to his slouched shoulders, his scuffed up Chelsea boots. The boy turns towards him, and with a start, Niall recognizes him as the guy who lives in this dorm- Party Boy. 

Party Boy’s eyes are a captivating shade of green, pupils blown wide in the dim light and cheeks flushed with the heat. “Um- you live here, right?” Niall stammers, feeling the redness creep up his neck. Looking into those eyes, he finds himself struggling to focus and stay furious about his sleeping situation- or lack thereof. 

The boy just nods, cocking his head to the side and flicking his eyes down Niall's frame and back up, the tiniest smirk on his face.  _ Okay, that's it. _ Crossing his arms, he scowls. He's never wanted to slap that smirk off someone's face quite this much before. “I live in the dorm below you.” Niall pauses, waiting for the boy get the point. When he just stares blankly back at him, Niall rolls his eyes. 

“I haven't slept properly in the last month because of you!” Niall growls, feeling his face turn red. 

“I knew I was a heartbreaker, but I didn't think anyone's been kept up at night thinking about me.” 

“Not you, you idiot!” Niall snarls, his hands fisting involuntarily. “All your goddamn parties.” He can feel the blood roaring in his ears. Something about this guy itches at him, as if he's begging him to punch his perfect jawline. 

“You can come up and join sometime, if you want. Were you feeling left out?” He says, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. 

The smile disappears instantly as Niall’s fist collides with his jaw. 

\---

Two minutes later, Niall nurses his black eye with a bag of ice as he slouches against the wall of the corridor. The boy he'd decked- who he learns is Harry- slides his back down the wall next to him till he sits his arse on the floor. Harry lets out a prolonged sigh as he presses his own bag of ice against his bruised jaw. 

Niall glances over at him surreptitiously. Harry’d sprung back up and packed a pretty solid punch to his eye moments after Niall had hit him, after which two random blokes from the party had grabbed hold of them and pulled them apart, Niall swearing loudly, and thrown them out after they calmed down and promised not to spring on each other again. 

“I can't be thrown out of my own dorm!” Harry had protested, his face turning a magnificent shade of red. Nevertheless, here he was, slumped next to his attacker in the hallway. 

Niall's heartbeat begins to slow, his breathing evening out. Common sense begins to get a grip on his mind as the ice numbs his eye, drawing out the heat from his bruise and the anger from his blood.

“M’sorry for hitting you.” Niall mumbles quietly, like a repentant school boy apologizing for stealing another’s juice box. “I overreacted.” His eyes fix on the ground as he feels Harry shift beside him. 

“I'm sorry too,” Harry says, clearing his throat. “For hitting you. And keeping you up at night. And being an utter dick about it.” 

Niall waves a dismissive hand, but a strange thrill runs through him as Harry nudges him with a shoulder. “I'll stop them. If you want.” 

“It's fine, really, mate.” Niall replies, shaking his head and picking aimlessly at the ripped threads in his joggers. 

Harry's eyes linger on the boy next to him for a moment longer, noting how his ruffled blonde hair in the dim lighting frames his face like a halo; the line of his nose, the way his eyes flutter closed as he leans his head back, the ice pack dropping to his lap in resignation. 

“They're not really my parties, actually.” Harry admits, keeping his gaze on Niall and his breath catching in his throat as his blue eyes flick to his. 

“Whose are they?” 

“Nick, one of my best mates. His flats tiny, so I let him use my dorm. Can't say no to him, I guess.” Harry sighs, wiping his damp hand on his jeans. He glances at the boy next to him. “I don't even know your name, by the way.” 

“Niall Horan.” Niall supplies, extending a hand. 

“Harry Styles.” He replies, shaking Niall's hand and trying desperately to ignore the spark that runs up his spine when their hands touch. 

The two boys settle into a comfortable silence, occasionally supplying each other with details about themselves. Harry works part time in a bakery. Studies photography and likes cats. Has a sister named Gemma. Niall is a sound engineering major. Originally from Ireland (though Harry already knew that the instant he started speaking). Plays guitar. 

It's nearing 4 am when Harry gets up, stretching his legs and cracking his back with a relieved sigh. “Might as well kick everyone out and try to get a couple hours in before class.” He yawns, offering Niall a hand to pull him up. Niall mumbles a good night and stumbles off down the hallway, his mind buzzing with  _ Harry _ \- before he calls his name. 

“Niall!” Harry jogs towards him, running a hand through his curls. “Could I get your number?” 

“Course,” Niall says (too quickly), one hand reaching up to the back of his neck as if that would hide the pink flush that appears too often. His hands are clammy with sweat as he enters his number in Harry's phone, and the careful look Harry gives him before smiling awkwardly isn't lost on either of them. 

“Good night, Ni.” Harry pips, punching him on the shoulder lightly before grinning and prancing (prancing seems the only word appropriate) back down the hallway. 

Niall stares after him, frowning, confused and angry with himself. He is  _ not  _ falling for Harry Styles.

His pounding heart suggests otherwise. 

\---

A week later, the shrill sound of his alarm jolts Niall out of his dream. If the dream involved a certain green-eyed boy he'd met that fateful Thursday night, he'll never admit it. 

He stretches one arm out, groping along the nightstand till he feels the clock and shuts it off, his face still smushed into the pillow. A groan escapes his lips as he pushes himself up, sunlight streaming through the window and illuminating his bleached hair. 

Getting ready for class is a blur of minty toothpaste and three day old jumpers that smell alright, and shoving trainers on and deciding his hair looks fine without doing anything to it. Like always.

“Wake up, Li.” Niall mumbles, shoving his roommate's shoulder on his way out. “You've got class.” But Liam only offers a half hearted shrug as Niall slips out the door, an amused smile playing on his lips. 

\---

The chill of October is made well known to Niall as he snuggles deeper into his jumper, the tip of his nose pink and his cheeks flushed. He ducks his head down against the bitter wind, already lamenting the load of essays he had to complete. The gravel crunched beneath his trainers, the wind whipping at his hair and blowing the leaves into a frenzy, crackling and whooshing.

He'd inspected his black eye in the mirror after class. It had faded considerably, just a dark smudge underneath his eye, and it didn't hurt at all when he poked at it. 

“Niall!” A voice calls, and Niall spins  around to search for the source- only to be slammed into from behind and land, face first, in the gravel. Pain shoots along his skin, fiery hot, as he groans, rolling onto his back. Eyes squeezed shut, his head spins and spins and spins. 

Those blue eyes snap open instantly when a voice says, “Are you alright?” It's not so much what the person said- but who said it. Blinking rapidly, he turns his head to the side, sitting up. A hand supports him from the back, another one clutching his arm. 

Harry Styles (of all people) squats next to him, green eyes big and worried as he leans closer. “Are you okay?” He repeats, gentle fingers brushing Niall's jaw as he turns the blonde’s head towards him. He swipes tiny pieces of gravel off Niall's cheek, not daring to meet his eyes as the blonde inhales sharply. 

“I'm really sorry, Niall.” He says, rising, offering a hand to help Niall up.  “Was my fault.”

“No-” Niall straightens out his jumper. “I wasn't looking where I was going.” 

Harry shakes his head, but doesn't pursue it any further. “How's your eye doing?” The brunette makes a motion as if to touch Niall's bruise- but to Niall's relief, decides against it. He thinks he'll melt if he's under Harry's touch any longer. 

“Um- yeah, it's fine. Doesn't hurt.” He stares down at his shoes. “You?” 

Harry grins slightly, tilting his head to the side to show Niall the bruise. “Nearly gone.” 

The two boys stand there in silence for only a heartbeat longer before Niall speaks up. 

“You never texted.” He blurts. He doesn't know why he said it, wishes he could reel them back out of the air. Harry just gives him an easy smile.

“Sorry. I was busy, I didn't get a chance.” Harry explains, his dimples appearing. Something twists in Niall's chest- something bitter and foreboding. It's like a row of little red alarms turning on in his mind, bells dinging and screaming  _ don't do it. _

_ He's playing you like he plays everyone else.  _

_ He didn't text because he doesn't care about you. _

_ It's not real.  _

But somehow Harry's gravelly voice and his untidy curls and his dimples and his lanky limbs and his apologies and the way he looks at Niall like he's the most interesting thing he's ever come across mutes out the alarms going off and replaces them with fireworks and cherry flavored kisses and choirs of singing angels. 

He  loves it. “It's alright,” He grins, the words rolling off his tongue as easy as anything. And Harry smiles bigger, and the world feels perfect in their little glass bubble. 

\---

That night, Niall lays in bed, staring at the dimmed screen of his phone. Two words, etched in black, have his attention at the top of a new text. 

_ Coffee tomorrow? _ - _ H _

He has no doubt H means Harry. Harry, who wanted to get a coffee with Niall tomorrow.

It seems ridiculous and childish, but his heart is slamming against his chest a million beats a minute and his palms slip against the phone with sweat as he types out three words in reply. 

_ Sure. What time? _

He's staring at his screen with a kind of desperate determination, like if he wills it enough Harry will reply quickly. Like he's been waiting for Niall's text just as long as he's been waiting for Harry’s. 

“Hey, Nialler!” His stupor is broken as Liam shuts the door behind him, kicking off his shoes and throwing his books onto his bed with a dull thunk. “What’re you doin’?”

Niall shoves his phone in his pocket. “Nothing.” 

Liam narrows his eyes at him curiously, but doesn't prod any further. “So I saw you with that Harry today.” He begins, turning his back to him and rummaging for something in his bags. 

Niall feels a twinge of defensiveness at Harry being called  _ that _ Harry, like his name needs to be differentiated from their own. He bites his tongue, holding back a sharp remark. 

Liam turns towards him. “He knocked you down.” 

Niall frowns. “How did you-” 

“I called your name, I bought us coffee like you said you wanted yesterday, but I lost sight of you after a while and couldn't find you.” He shrugs. “I gave it to Zayn.”

Niall nods noncommittally, feet kicking at the edge of his bed. It was Liam who'd yelled his name. “So why-”

“Stay away from him, Niall.” Liam cuts in suddenly, letting out a long breath of air as if he'd been holding that back for a while. 

“Excuse me?” The blonde rises, crossing his arms tightly in front of him. “Who are you to tell me who I can and can't be with?” A familiar rush of blood pounds in his ears, his fingers itching. 

Liam sinks back down onto his bed, shaking his head. “It's not like that, Niall.” 

“Then what is it like?” Niall demands critically, feeling his brow knit in a frown. 

“He's a player!” Liam says, exasperated. “He’ll be over you in a week and then move onto someone new.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It's just what he does. He's made a big reputation for himself. Gone through just about half the campus in his first year. Male and female.” He shakes his head in distaste.

“How do you know that's true?” Niall mumbles, feeling numb. 

“I don't. Yeah, they're rumors...but rumors always come from at least a little bit of truth.” Liam continues, imploring. “I don't want to see you get hurt, Niall. And all he’ll do is make you feel special, then break your heart.” 

The blonde shakes his head adamantly. “I don't believe you.” And he doesn't. He refuses to think that Harry would be a playboy, just moving from one to the next.

He can't be. 

Niall's phone dings in his pocket and he pulls it out, knuckles white. 

_ How about 9? You free then?  _

He takes his time to reply, staring down at the phone for a while before responding. 

_ Yes.  _

\---

The next morning, Niall stands outside the only coffee shop on campus. The time on his watch reads 8:58 AM, and he runs his hand through his hair- nervous.  It's not a date, he knows- Harry's most likely not interested in him. Not as much as Liam seems to think by a long shot.  The clock turns to 8:59 AM, and that's when he sees Harry- striding towards him with a big grin on his face, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. 

“Hi!” Harry chirps cheerfully, coming to a stop next to him. 

“Hey.” Niall grins back, deciding that he'll ignore whatever Liam told him. If he has to find out for himself, so be it. 

\---

“So how was class?” Harry asks conversationally, picking at a bagel and holding his coffee in his other hand as the two of them stroll along campus towards the park. 

“Boring.” Niall tells him, swallowing his own steaming coffee with a wince.

“Same here,” Harry nods. Niall can feel something itching at his mind, the things Liam said about Harry buzzing like a swarm of black bees. 

Niall glances at Harry, the words crawling up his throats and ready to detonate, when a big grin crosses the taller boy’s face. 

“There!” he exclaims, pointing energetically at the only empty park bench. “Come on, Ni, someone will take it if we don't go.” And with that, he bites the bagel between his teeth, tosses his coffee in the nearest bin, and grabs Niall’s hand, sprinting off across the lawn, dragging the unfortunate blonde behind him.

“Harry- wait-” Niall breathes, tripping over his own feet as they race up the slope.

Harry crashes to a halt, both of them out of breath as they sink down onto the wooden bench. Niall glances around them breathlessly, panting and then frowning suddenly when he realizes there's barely anyone around them.

“Harry-” 

“I know.” The boy pants, glancing at him and beaming, an amused twinkle in his eyes. “But it was fun, wasn't it?” 

Niall lets out a laugh in amazement. “I guess. But it was harder for me, seeing as you've got those long legs and all,” He smirks, nudging Harry's knee with his own as he attempts to regain his breath. 

Leaves flutter down around them as the silence falls, a crisp wind ruffling Harry's curls. Niall watches the throngs of students mill about the square, laughing and talking and smiling. His gaze lifts upwards, towards the sky, watching the clouds float around lazily, the color a pristine blue. He's about to point out the one that looks like a goat when Harry interrupts him. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Niall’s head whips towards him so fast he feels something in his neck crick. “What?” The blood is rushing in his ears, the heat creeping up his face and his heart is slamming impossibly fast against his rib cage. 

Harry gives him the tiniest smirk, and it's so damn hot Niall feels like punching a wall. “I said, ‘Can I kiss you?’” Harry repeats.

“Uh-y-yes-” 

The word is barely out of his mouth when Harry's lips crash against his, and his mind goes blank. 

The only thing Niall is aware of is the feel of his lips, warm and lush and soft and tasting like cherry. They remind him of sparkling water and fireworks and vintage record shops and a spring breeze. Harry shifts closer to him, one hand at the back of his neck and the other cupping his jaw as he presses in, deepening the kiss. 

Niall wouldn't mind dying like this, suffocated by Harry's lips, just the two of them kissing with no end. 

But the two part for air, Harry grinning like a madman and Niall still in shock, and it's only a heartbeat or two before Niall kisses Harry again, harder and more desperate, as if the only air he'll ever need again is the taste of Harry's lips. The brunette’s hands are on his hips, and Niall’s fingers are threaded through his curls, and there's no doubt this is the best kiss he's ever had.  

Harry pulls away finally, gasping for breath as his hands drop to his side and the boy beside him with the most perfect lips does the same. He can't help but glance at Niall a bit shyly. “Some kiss, huh?” 

Niall huffs a laugh, still breathless. His hair’s a mess, and his hands seem to have trouble finding something to do, but it's the most beautiful Harry's ever seen him. 

Green eyes meet blue, and their gazes lock for a tense second before flicking away, embarrassed.

Niall feels something warm unfurl in his chest as he watches Harry point out the cloud that looks like a goat, his eyes crinkling with laughter and then the dimples that appear with a fond smile as he notices him staring. 

Liam's warning goes out the window as Niall smiles back and presses a feathery light kiss to Harry's cheek, blushing profusely. He's head over heels for this boy, he knows, and as much as he'd like to resent the fact that he's only known him for a couple of weeks before falling this hard- he doesn't.

\---

The next two weeks pass without major event: Niall tells Liam and Zayn about the kiss. Liam doesn't get angry, just gives Niall pitiful looks for the next three days when he thinks he isn't looking .

Harry and Niall, meanwhile, meet each other more often. On Monday,  Niall walks Harry to his chemistry class. On Tuesday, Harry buys them coffee and a doughnut to share. On Thursday, they make out underneath the bleachers during Liam's football practice- and Liam's none the wiser. On Friday, Harry shows Niall each and every one of his tattoos. Niall thinks most of them are stupid, but would never tell him so. On Saturday, Niall takes them to his favorite record shop in London. Sunday, they watch the ducks in the pond while entertaining each other with(inaccurate, but still amusing) renditions of their most irksome professors’ lectures. 

Two weeks have passed since their first kiss. Then four. Liam tells him this is the longest Harry's ever been with someone, and Niall can't help but feel a sense of pride that he was the one who made Harry stay this long. 

The blonde and the brunette lay side by side on Harry's bed, Niall only half-awake as the taller boy snuggles further into him, wrapping a loose arm around his stomach and hooking his leg over Niall’s. Harry lets out a satisfied sigh as Niall presses a brief kiss to his forehead. Sunlight filters through the window, illuminating the dust in its path. 

“Could stay like this forever, Ni.” Harry breathes, and Niall stiffens involuntarily. Harry Styles, heartthrob-heartbreaker playboy Harry Styles would want to stay with him forever. 

Harry senses Niall’s flinch and pulls away instantly, coughing uncomfortably. “Sorry, I didn't mean to-” 

“No- no, it's fine.” Niall says hurriedly, instantly craving the warmth of Harry's body against his. “I'd want to stay with you forever too.” He whispers, rolling over so he's staring straight into Harry's emerald eyes. The brunette beams affectionately, kissing him so gently it feels like a feather brushing over his lips. 

Harry pulls away then, his fingers combing through Niall’s bleached tips. “Niall, I’m going to ask you something, and this probably isn't the right time to be asking- I just need to know if it's because of  _ me  _ or something else- but either ways you don't have to answer if you don't want to.” 

Niall blinks slowly, his hands stilling. “What is it?” 

Harry averts his gaze, his eyes dropping to Niall’s chest instead. “Whywon’tyouhavesexwithme?”

The blonde freezes, catching Harry's eyes. “You- you think it's because of  _ you _ ?” 

Harry gives him a quick nod, swallowing heavily as Niall huffs a short laugh. At this, he pushes himself up. “If you find it so funny-” he growls, his eyes dampening ever so slightly as he begins to get off the bed, but Niall catches his arm, forcing him to stay put.

“I'm sorry, Haz, I didn't mean it like that.” 

“Then what's so funny?”

“Harry...you are by far the hottest guy I've ever met.” Niall laughs, scooting closer. Harry turns a unconvinced gaze towards him. 

“Believe me.” Niall takes a deep breath, the smile slipping from his face. “I'm just- I'm not ready yet. It has nothing to do with you, I swear.”

Harry gives him a tiny smile. “I get it. It's okay.” He pecks Niall on the lips, wrapping an arm around him as they fall back on the bed. “And by the way- you're also the hottest guy I've ever met.” 

Niall laughs. “Yeah, right.” 

Harry's face is dead serious. “I'm not joking, Niall.” He shifts impossibly closer, one thumb stroking the line of Niall’s cheekbone. “Your eyes are my favorite.” He whispers. “I’d better be careful though. Could get lost in them.” He cracks a goofy grin, and Niall rolls his eyes at his cheesiness, but his uncontrollable blushing gives it away. 

“Your freckles.” Harry runs his finger down the line of Niall’s neck. “Your lips.” He kisses him, long and slow, and Niall can feel himself melt under his lips. “Your hair.” He says, after pulling away. “Nose.” He kisses the tip of his nose ever so lightly. 

“The way you blush. A lot.” Harry giggles, and Niall reddens invariably, smiling shyly. “And your laugh.” He adds, his eyes lighting up. Niall shakes his head, grinning, but Harry frowns. “What? It's cute!” 

The smile fades off his face as Harry closes his eyes. “And you've got such a big heart, Ni.” He murmurs, kissing him again. “That's the best thing about you.” 

\---

Earlier that day, Harry had asked him to come to the last party held at his dorm. He'd told Nick to clear out after the incident with Niall, but Nick had begged and begged and finally Harry had agreed to one last occupation. 

“Sorry, Haz.” Niall had shaken his head, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly. He didn't like turning Harry down. “I've got a big Chem exam tomorrow morning, I still have loads to study.” 

“Please?” Harry implored, widening his eyes slightly for that puppy dog look he knew did the trick every time- but Niall refused. 

Harry had brushed it off afterwards, said it was alright- but Niall knew how much he'd wanted him to come.

Which was why, consequently, at 2:49 AM, he stood patiently in front of Harry's door, knocking away. He was already about three hours late, but it didn't matter. Harry’d be pleased to see him any time of day (or night, in this case) as the brunette had grandly declared himself just yesterday. 

After his fourth round of knocking, the door opened to reveal a busty girl wearing a startlingly skimpy dress. She had a jacket draped over one shoulder, like she'd been ready to leave when she'd opened the door. 

“Hey, have you seen Har-”

They locked eyes for the briefest of moments, and that's when Niall hears a voice say, “Come on, babe, I thought we were going back to your flat.”

This time, it's as much what the voice said as the owner of the voice that hits him. Because Niall recognizes that voice, the deep, slightly gravelly voice belonging to the person he thought he'd trusted.

“Yeah, come on.” The girl replies, opening the door just a bit further, revealing the boy whose hand she's holding loosely. And Niall feels like screaming.

Harry stands there, his eyes a bit glazed and his pupils blown wide much the same way they were the night Niall met him- but he suspects it's due to something else this time. He's at least slightly tipsy, his eyes fixed only on the girl in front of him, about to take him to bed, and Niall can feel his heart implode inside his chest.

Time seems to slow as Harry meets his gaze, bewildered and then surprised and then something else.

Here he thought he had something special. Here he thought Liam was wrong. Here, Niall thought, Harry was worth the risk. He thought he had Harry's heart and he had his, and they trusted each other not to break it. 

But he was wrong.

Harry drops the girl's hand like it burned him, his eyes on Niall. He opens his mouth like he's about to say something- try to talk his way out of this- but Niall won't be there to hear it. His eyes burn with tears as he takes a step backward, his chest heaving. The walls are closing in around him, squeezing and choking and he can't breathe. 

“Niall-” Harry pushes through the doorway, reaching for Niall’s hand, but Niall snatches it away, blinking up at him through a veil of tears. And then, without really knowing what he's doing- he's running. He can hear Harry calling after him, but he's on autopilot, his mind too numb to think, and his feet carry him as far away from Harry as they can get. 

Down the flights of stairs, across the square, shoving past the few students left roaming campus, running running running  _ running  _

till he can't. He heaves to a stop in the middle of the park, one palm pressed against a tree for support as he pants, hiccuping through his sobs as his chest burns.

_ How could he do this? _

It's pitch black outside except for the yellowed light of lone street lamps, and the only sound left is the rustle of grass as footsteps race up the slope behind him. 

Harry stops a few feet behind him, breathing heavily. “Niall.” 

Niall doesn't turn around or spare him a glance. One more look at him and he'll probably collapse, knees too weak to support his sobs. The blonde folds his arms tightly across his chest, like if he squeezes himself tight enough it'll hold his broken pieces together.

“Niall, I can explain.” Harry implores, taking one step towards him. 

Niall purses his lips, letting his head tilt back and exhaling one long controlled breath. His eyes shut. He wills himself to simmer down, because now the feeling of betrayal is rapidly turning to anger, and as much as he hates himself for it- he still can't bring himself to hurt Harry. 

Gritting his teeth, he asks one question. “Were you going to sleep with her tonight?” His voice is weaker than he'd like it to be. 

Harry is silent for a long while, his eyes flicking from the ground to the back of his Niall’s head, something vile churning in the pit of his stomach. A biting wind blows, rustling through the bare-limbed trees and shaking the remaining leaves to flutter down around them. 

“You owe me a goddamn answer, Harry.” Niall spits, finally turning to face him. Harry lets out a puff of surprised breath at Niall’s red rimmed eyes, the blotchiness of his cheeks, and the way his lip quivers as he sets his jaw.

Looking into those eyes, he can only stay silent for so long. “Yes.” Harry whispers, turning his face away, his brow knit together with shame. 

“Then no,” Niall says, “You can't explain.” 

The two stand in tense silence for what seems like hours before Harry starts, “I didn't know you were going to come.” 

Niall scoffs, suppressing a shiver in the cold. “If anything, that makes it worse. You knew I wasn't there, so you took the opportunity to fuck some random bird.”

“I didn't.”

“You we're going to.” Niall snaps, bile rising in his throat as he imagines that whore with Harry in her bed. “This is because I didn't put out, isn't it?” 

“What?” 

“Because I wouldn't have sex with you yet, you go looking for it elsewhere?” 

“No- no, Niall-” Harry shakes his head in earnest, but Niall isn't having any of it.

“I  _ trusted you!!”  _ Niall shouts, his voice painfully raw in the empty night air. 

Harry takes a step back, shame coloring his cheeks as he struggles to meet Niall’s gaze. The blonde takes a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as he levels out his breathing. “So how many times?” He asks finally, swallowing heavily.

Harry frowns. “How many times what?” 

“How many times have you sneaked off to be with someone else while I wasn't there?” 

He shakes his head instantly. “Never.” 

“Don't lie to me, Styles.” Niall growls, feeling the familiar rush of blood in his ears. 

“I'm not!” Harry runs a shaking hand through his hair. “I swear to you, Niall. Never.” 

“Until tonight.” The blonde laughs bitterly, avoiding Harry's gaze. 

Silence reigns for the third time that night, inky black and freezing, weaving between the two of them.  “I can fix this, Niall. It won't happen again, I promise.” The taller boy murmurs.

Niall just laughs, his eyes fixed on some point over Harry's shoulder. Looking him in the eyes hurts more.

“You know, Liam was right.” His eyes steel, the sky blue Harry had always loved now freezing and emotionless.

“What?” 

“Liam warned me to stay away from you.” Niall smirks viciously, no humor in his gaze as he waits for Harry's reaction.

“ _ What?”  _

_ “ _ He said you were trouble. Said you played anybody who caught your eye and then threw them away when you got bored.” His eyes narrow. “Told me you slept through half the campus in your first year.” 

“That's not true.” Harry whispers breathlessly, his face as numb as if he'd just slapped him. “Niall, come on, you know none of that's true.” He's pleading, his voice desperate and breaking on the last word. “It's not- not true.” 

“Do I?” Niall retorts sharply, his tone cutting through the last of Harry's defense. The first tear slips down the brunette’s cheek, leaving a silvery streak in its path.

“If it's not true then why'd you do it?” 

“I-I made a mistake, Niall.”

The blonde remains silent, keeping his gaze off Harry as he struggles to hold back the tears.

“Niall, please,” Harry whimpers, his lip trembling. “I wasn't trying to hurt you. You know I would never hurt you.” 

“You already did, Harry.” He whispers, the tiniest tremor in his voice. “And you can't fix it.” 

Harry can feel his world crumble around him, his heart shattering, the broken pieces embedded in his chest and every fiber in his body screaming in agonizing pain as Niall moves past him. Leaving him.

He catches the blonde’s wrist as the last moment, forcing him to stop. “Please, Ni.” He takes a shuddering breath, steadying his voice. “Forgive me.”

Niall raises his head to meet his eyes, and in the pale moonlight Harry can see tears slipping down his face. “I don't know how.” He says, each word clear and so painfully honest that Harry flinches, letting go of Niall's wrist. 

He watches with shaking shoulders as Niall’s retreating figure moves farther and farther away from him. Defeated, he wanders through the park, shivering uncontrollably, till he finds the bench where he and Niall had first kissed.

He sinks down, and begins to cry his heart out until Nick finds him twenty minutes later, curled up in the cold and sniffling pathetically. 

“Come on, mate.” He'd sighed, wrapping his jacket around the younger boy and lifting him up, supporting him as they stumbled back to his dorm. “Let's get you home.”

\---

Liam doesn't say a word when Niall shows up at their dorm, eyes red and puffy. He remains silent when Niall sinks down on his bed, head in his hands, and sits there quite motionless for a good twenty minutes. The only time he speaks up is when Niall chucks a pillow across the room in anger, frowning as it thuds against the door and flops to the ground. 

“You alright, mate?” 

“The fuck does it look like?” Niall snaps, standing up and stalking off to the bathroom, but not before whirling around and pointing an accusatory finger at him. “And don't you fucking  _ dare  _ say ‘I told you so’.” 

Liam lifts his hands in surrender as Niall slams the bathroom door behind him, but his hands soon fall to his lap as he gazes at the door, worry etched on his face. Soon enough, the sound of muffled sobbing reaches his ears.

He knocks twice. “Ni? Can I come in?” 

_ Click.  _ He pushes the door open gently. Liam finds him sitting on the counter of the little sink, a sizeable mound of tissues already piling up beside him.

“Go away, Liam.” Niall mutters, but there's no real venom in his voice and he doesn't push him away as his roommate sidles up next to him.

“Broke your heart, did he?” Liam murmurs, fishing in the cabinet above the sink for a new box of tissues. Niall snorts. 

“No shit, Sherlock.” He snipes, but takes the tissues from Liam's hand nonetheless. “I'm not taking him back.” He sniffles, wiping his eyes. “No matter what he says.” 

To his surprise, Liam remains silent. 

He turns his watery gaze towards him, then back to his lap. “I thought- I thought I was in love with him until tonight.” Abashed, he turns his face away. “I thought he felt the same way, Liam.”

“Maybe he did.” Liam says quietly, fishing a half melted sweet out of his pocket and handing it to him. Niall takes it gingerly, picking at the foil wrapping. 

“What d’you mean ‘maybe he did’?” He asks softly, rolling the chocolate around in his palm slowly. 

“What I mean is people make mistakes, Niall. Some of them are bigger than others, but that doesn't mean he didn't care about you.”

“Whose side are you on?” Niall snaps, glaring at him. 

“Yours, you idiot.” Liam rolls his eyes theatrically. “All I'm saying is give him a chance to redeem himself. In the end it's up to you, obviously. It's just a bit of advice.” Liam rinses his hands in the sink, flicking the water at him playfully. “It's not the end of the world, mate. You stay all gloomy like this, you're giving him the power.”

And with that, Liam exits the dingy bathroom, leaving a bewildered Niall staring after him, mind whirling. 

\---

The next morning, Niall finds a red rose propped against the wall outside his door. He chucks it in the bin. The following evening, a small plush penguin. He throws it out the window. Two days later, a note. He doesn't read it, just lights it on fire with Zayn’s cigarette lighter and watches it burn. 

Niall is slowly plucking the petals off the flowers in a bouquet he'd gotten last night when Liam slams his book closed. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Liam says, yanking the bouquet out of Niall's hands and throwing them on the desk. 

“What's wrong with me?” Niall scoffs. “What's wrong with you?” 

Liam just groans, plopping down beside him and running a hand through his hair. “I should've told you earlier, but this morning, Louis- that's Harry's roommate- is friends with Zayn, and he told Zayn to tell me to tell you that Harry’s been depressed for the last week. Doesn't eat, doesn't sleep, doesn't talk, and he doesn't do any schoolwork.” 

“Not my problem.” Niall says tartly, inspecting his fingernails matter of factly. 

“Technically, it is your problem, because if you haven't noticed, Niall, you've been the same way.”

Niall’s eyes snap to meet his, furious. “I have  _ not _ -” 

“Look at this, Niall!” Liam grabs a crumpled up paper from his desk, unfolding it and waving it in his face. “Look at it.” A big red F stands out at the top corner. “Cartwright made you stay after class for a ‘one-on-one’ meeting, and I'm guessing it wasn't to talk about footie.”

Niall's glare fades as he stares at his knees. 

“You were up till 4 last night, and before you ask, I know that because you weren't snoring and I got a better sleep than I have in two months. You haven't eaten anything, and you're  _ always  _ eating, Niall.”

Liam barrels on. “I don't like it anymore than you do, but it's only gonna get worse from here on out, and I'm not ready to stand by and watch that happen if I can do something about it!”

“What are you suggesting?” Niall asks wearily.

“Harry wants to meet you tomorrow evening.” He begins to shake his head, but Liam gives him the details nonetheless. “6:00 at the park. I don't know where in the park, he said you'd know.”

Niall knows.

“Just think about it, mate. Please.” Liam finishes, thumping Niall's back once before getting up and returning to his book. 

Suddenly, Niall notices a slip of white paper on the ground near the door, probably shoved underneath it. Picking it up, he reads the five words written in Harry's messy scrawl. 

_ I'm sorry.  _

_ Forgive me. _

_ Please. _

\---

A chilling gust of wind blows, extending the line outside the coffee shop and biting the numbed cheeks of heavily bundled-up students. Niall makes his way through the square, rubbing his thumb over Harry's note, stuffed deep in his pocket. 

The sky above is somewhere between gray and blue, the weak sunlight washing through the clouds casting a strange, silvery sheen on his face. 

He can't say he hasn't missed Harry. He can't say he hasn't missed his kisses, his cuddling, his stupid knock-knock jokes and his silly array of tattoos. His dimples. His eyes. His laugh- the obnoxiously loud one he always tries to cover up. 

The way he looked at Niall like he was the most beautiful creation he'd ever seen.  

A jittery feeling spreads through his body as he spots Harry on the bench where they'd first kissed, alone and looking oddly small against the wide backdrop of the sky behind him.

“Hey.” Niall clears his throat as he stands awkwardly in front of Harry. 

“Hey,” Harry offers a weak grin as he lifts his head to meet his eyes, and one thought instantly crosses Niall’s mind:  _ He looks terrible _ .

His hair is greasy and unwashed, dark bags underneath his eyes. Normally vibrant green eyes are now dull, the dark bags under his eyes even more prominent than his own. 

Niall feels like he's floating, unaware of his surroundings, just staring into those eyes with nothing between them. It hurts, and at the same time, it calms him. 

So he sits gingerly next to Harry, not close enough to be considered amicable, but not far away enough to seem distant. He folds his hands in his lap, staring out at the cityscape beyond the campus lines. 

“Did you get the flowers?” Harry asks, a tinge of hope in his words. 

“Yeah,” Niall tells him, regret blossoming in his chest as he thinks of the roses, withering and brown, inside the trash bin. 

“The note?” Harry’s voice is soft, almost dismayed. 

“Yeah.” 

“You threw them away, didn't you.” Harry says suddenly, no accusation in his voice, just a strange reservation. 

“How did you-” Niall starts, turning to him, surprised, but Harry waves a hand of dismissal.

“I knew you would. It doesn't matter.” He mutters. Niall sinks back against the bench, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Harry-” 

“I didn't come here to try and convince you to take me back. I came to apologize for what I did, for what it's worth. You deserve that.” He clears his throat. “You deserve someone better than me.” 

“Haz.” Niall whispers, feeling like his heart is being squeezed tight.

But Harry ignores him. “I never should have done what I did. I shouldn't have taken advantage of your trust. I don't deserve you, Niall, I don't. And I hurt you, and I wish I could take it back, but I can't.” He turns his face away, holding back the emotion in his eyes. 

“Ha-” Niall tries to say his name, but his voice breaks halfway and all of a sudden there's tears in his eyes. 

“There's just one thing I want you to know.” Harry chokes out, finally looking Niall in the eyes. “If we had the choice to go through all of this again, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Even if it meant I’d fuck up at the end and you would leave me… I'd do it again because I’d get to relive the time I spent with you.” A tear slips. “That month was the happiest time of my life, Ni. And I know it wasn't worth it for you, and I know I don't mean anything to you anymore but I just want you to know that I love y-” Harry’s voice breaks, and tears are sliding down his face. “I love you.” He whispers, reaching up to rub the dampness off his face. 

Niall buries his face in his hands, his elbows digging into his knees as he leans over, his face shiny with tears. Taking ragged breath after breath, his mind spins with only one thing clear.  _ He did love him _ . 

He feels the bench move underneath him, and when he glances up, Harry is standing up, staring down at him. “Goodbye, Ni.” He doesn't respond, just stares down at his feet, fingers itching. 

The grass rustles gently as Harry walks away from him...leaving him. Because he thought he wasn't good enough for Niall. Because he made a mistake. 

_ People make mistakes, Niall.  _

Liam's words echo softly in his head, pressing and insistent. 

_ Some of them are bigger than others… _

_ But that doesn't mean he doesn't care about you. _

“Harry!” Before really knowing what he's doing, Niall is stumbling down the slope, slipping and sliding over the damp grass till he reaches him, gripping one of his arms to steady himself. “Don't- don't go.” 

_ Surprised  _ is an understatement for the expression on Harry's face. “For a moment, I thought you were coming here to deck me.” 

“I've already done that once,” Niall grins wearily, eyes softening as Harry laughs. 

Their smiles fade as their eyes meet, and all of a sudden they're hugging, squeezing so tight Niall feels like he could burst. 

Harry murmurs in his hair. “I'm so sorry.” It's a ghost of a whisper, quiet, his breath tickling the edge of Niall’s ear. The blonde inhales Harry’s scent, oddly satisfied to learn he still smells like cinnamon. 

“I forgive you.” He smiles, lips brushing over the taller boy’s ear. 

And then Harry’s pulling away and leaning in again to kiss him, so hard and desperate it's as if he's making sure Niall's still really there, wrapped up in his arm, safe and warm and  _ his _ again. 

Niall gasps for breath, inhaling sharply as their lips part. Glancing down at the blonde in his arms, Harry grins. “You look terrible.” 

Niall laughs, loud and bright, and Harry's smile grows impossibly wider. He pokes fondly at one of his dimples, shaking his head. “You're an idiot, Styles.” 

“Says you!” Harry scoffs, but he can't keep the grin off his face for long. 

“And by the way,” Niall glances at him with shining blue eyes. “I love you, too.” 

Harry meets his gaze, beaming, and Niall’s chest warms inexplicably. Because Harry isn't perfect, but he loves him anyway. And he guesses that's the whole point. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)


End file.
